


Home at Last

by Nonexistenz, ohstars



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Digital Art, Falling In Love, M/M, MCU from Loki's pov, Sakaar (Marvel), Thor: Ragnarok (2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohstars/pseuds/ohstars
Summary: Loki has never felt wanted. He's nothing more than a degenerate, a lowlife, an outcast. He's not meant to love. But when faced with the potential power that lies on Sakaar, Loki does what he has to do to gain power. Whatever it takes.
Relationships: En Dwi Gast | Grandmaster/Loki
Comments: 3
Kudos: 102
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019





	Home at Last

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who helped out with this project! @Nonexistenz for their amazing art that inspired this story, @tjc2009-2018 for betaing, and my fellow mods for helping run this event and encouraging me throughout this story. I was really nervous about writing it since I've never written for this pairing before, but I think this fic turned out way better than expected. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

~*~*~*~*~

_Fear not, for you are found._

~*~*~*~*~

Odin is alive. He’s standing a few yards away, overlooking the cliffside at the murky water below and the clear horizon ahead. He seems at ease from this distance, dressed in Midgardian clothes and just watching, as if the AllFather hasn’t done enough watching in his lifetime. 

Thor’s walking toward him, umbrella in hand. 

Loki gets up to follow, not bothering to dust off the grass off his suit. Odin is alive, after everything Loki put him through… He’s not sure how to feel. All he knows at this moment is that he wishes Thor had never returned and left him to his plays and days of luxury like he deserves. He lingers, not sure if he should stand with them or not. Loki watches as Thor says something, hears the rumble in Odin’s voice as he responds, but he does not join them yet. 

“Father, it’s us,” Thor says, as he stands beside Odin.

He keeps his eyes cast down as he moves to stand on Odin’s right. 

“My sons,” Odin says. Loki looks up at him, eyes somber as he stares at the old man. When did he get so old and fragile? Loki remembers how he looked when he was a boy, not a wrinkle on his face or a raspiness to his voice. Now look at him. He looks distinguished and comfortable in his body, with his pale yellow eyepatch and his pastel clothes. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I know. We’ve come to take you home,” Thor says. 

“Home, yes. Your mother, she calls me,” Odin says. “Do you hear it?” 

“Loki, lift your magic,” Thor says, fidgeting. 

Loki’s brow furrows as he stiffens. This wasn’t him, this isn’t the spell he cast upon Odin. He only cast a simple spell to help Odin blend in with the Midgardians, not whatever this was. Loki shakes his head. 

Odin, however, chuckles. “Took me quite a while to break free from your spell,” he says, turning to Loki. “Frigga would have been proud.” 

His breath hitches just so at the mention of his late mother. Would she have been? 

“Come and sit with me. I don’t have much time.” Odin turns to the rocks behind them, shuffling over to sit down. 

Loki and Thor follow him, uneasy. 

“I know that we failed you,” Thor says, hand on his father's shoulder to help steady him. “But we can make this right.” 

Odin looks out onto the horizon again. “I failed you,” he says. “It’s upon us. Ragnarök.” 

Thor shakes his head. “No, I’ve stopped Ragnarök. I put an end to Surtur.” 

“No,” Odin says. “It has already begun. She’s coming.” He takes a deep breath. “My life was all that held her back, but my time has come.” 

Loki looks at Thor. He can’t possibly mean… 

“I cannot keep her away any longer.” He looks to the sky, up toward the heavens. 

Thor leans forward. “Father, who are you talking about?” 

“Goddess of Death. Hela, my firstborn. Your sister.” 

Loki watches as Thor’s breathing quickens, as his brow furrows and his grip on the umbrella tightens. “Your what?” Thor asks. 

Odin doesn’t meet their gaze. “Her violent appetites grew beyond my control. I couldn’t stop her, so I imprisoned her.” Like a sane father would do. “Locked her away-” 

Loki stops listening. He just watches, a passive participant in the royal family, because what's the point? Why should he waste his time and energy worrying about this new sister as if he were surprised about his father’s sub-par parenting skills? Why should he worry about a people who would rather him be dead than rule them a moment longer? Why should he worry when he’ll merely be pushed aside to watch than be given a say in his own life? 

Thor says something to which Odin adamantly shakes his head. “No, we won’t,” Odin says. “I’m on a different path now. This you must face alone.” 

Loki looks down. Odin never treated him fairly, never gave him what he deserved. So why is overcome with immense sadness at this very moment?

“I love you, my sons,” Odin says. 

He looks to his father, but Odin doesn’t look at him. Instead he looks out to the distance, still avoiding either Thor or Loki’s gaze. “Look at that,” he says, pointing to the horizon. “Remember this place. Home.” 

And with that, he glows gold. Odin glows until there’s nothing tangible about him, just a glittery gold shape of what he used to be dissipating into the atmosphere. His remains float off towards the sea, specks of gold and glitter, everything Odin wanted to be but never managed to become.

The brothers stand, watching as their father… as he dies. There’s a lump in Loki’s throat. He’s all too familiar with this grief, though it’s nowhere near as strong as what he felt for his mother. But it’s there. He supposes it’s worse for Thor, who was closer to his father like he was with Mother, but Thor doesn’t seem to be emotional in the grieving sense. In fact, he looks upset, angry even. 

They stand there in silence as the wind around them picks up. Loki pushes back his tears and turns to Thor, who won’t look up. The murky water below churns as the clouds grow heavy and dark. “Brother,” Loki says, watching as the lighting sparks around Thor’s fingers. 

Thor clenches his fist and slowly turns to Loki. He’s breathing heavy, brow low. For a second, Loki’s genuinely worried Thor might kill him. “This was your doing.” 

Loki’s chest heaves as he tries to come up with a response, something to calm him, to get him out of here until Thor can calm down. He doesn’t have time, though. 

In the distance, a black dot appears in the sky, growing and growing until it’s a vibrant, glowing green. 

The brothers turn to it, Thor still gripping his umbrella and Loki more relieved to still be alive than anything. For now. 

He looks to Thor. His brother levels a glare, a promise that he’ll be dealt with later, as he starts to walk toward the portal. 

Loki follows, glamouring into his Asgardian garb as Thor slams his umbrella, Mjolnir, against the ground to reveal his own. Lightning scatters from Thor’s place, burning the grass beneath them, but Loki isn’t fazed. He’s used to Thor’s parlor tricks. 

They stand, battle ready, as a figure appears through the portal. 

She’s tall, pale, and menacing; Loki already feels closer to her than Thor in kinship. Although she could never match the love he shares for his brother, no matter how big a pain he can be. Loki adores her sleek, dark green bodysuit, with glimmering gold accents, the way her dark hair framed her sharp features. 

“So he’s gone,” she says, voice deep and with a raspy quality. Huh. Maybe Loki’s more jealous than anything. “That’s a shame. I would’ve liked to have seen that.” 

Maybe Thor’s the adopted one?

Thor finally speaks up. “You must be Hela. I’m Thor, son of Odin.”

“Really? You don’t look like him,” Hela says. 

“Perhaps we can come to an arrangement,” Loki says. 

Hela points at him. “You sound like him,” she says. “Kneel.” 

“Beg your pardon?” Loki asks, leaning forward. Who is she to tell him to kneel? That’s his thing. He’s the power hungry child in this family, not Hela. 

She flicks her wrist and a sword appears. “Kneel,” she repeats. “Before your queen.”

“I don’t think so,” Thor says. He throws Mjolnir at her, only for the unthinkable to happen. 

Hela stops it. With one hand, she stops Mjolnir in its tracks. It vibrates with the effort to keep going, but her hand holds it at bay like it’s made of foam. 

Thor’s arm is still outstretched, reaching for his hammer as he says, “It’s not possible.” 

“Darling, you have no idea what’s possible,” Hela says. She squeezes her hand and Mjolnir crumbles under the force. Loki’s quick to duck. Mjolnir falls to pieces at her feet in a flash of lightning, burning the ground it settles upon. 

Loki turns around just as Hela slicks back her hair and glamours an antler like helmet to match her bodysuit. She struts forward, revealing two swords, as she stalks toward her brothers. 

“Bring us back!” Loki bellows to the heavens. 

“No!” Thor sprints forward, ready to battle, as the Bïfrost shines around them in a rainbow of colors.

They glide up toward Asgard, leaving Mjolnir and Midgard behind. Thor quickly surpasses Loki, turning to look behind him only to find Hela hot on their heels. “Loki!” 

Loki looks down, grabs his dagger, and throws it expertly at her face. 

Hela catches it with ease and shoots it back at Loki. 

It hits him, knocking him off his path and into the edge of the Bïfrost. The bridge fragments around him, a hot, searing pain, as he’s catapulted into the void of space. He screams, flailing as the frost creeps at his skin. 

He turns blue, his Frost Giant blood showing itself as he floats into unconsciousness. 

~*~*~*~*~

_You are home, there is no going back. No one leaves this place._

~*~*~*~*~

Loki’s hand glides over the surface of whatever he’s laying on, feigning sleep as he searches for his dagger. It’s comfortable, silky even. Somehow the fabric covering him is even lighter, softer, and dreamy to the touch. It can’t possibly be his own bed, nor could it be Asgardian. Asgard could never create something so lovely… Too many brutish hands making the material. 

“Good morning,” a man says, voice soft but self-assured. “I think he’s awake? Is he awake? I think he is.” 

Loki opens his eyes to see a man with white hair peering over him. “Where am I?” he asks. 

“Ah! He is awake,” the man says over his shoulder. “He’s awake,” he repeats, turning to look down at Loki with a smile, hands folded with his swooping sleeves brushing against the sheets Loki’s tucked in. 

Loki’s brow furrows. “Who are you?” 

The man pulls back. “You don’t know who I am?” He looks back toward the door, where a stone-faced woman wearing armor looks on. “He doesn’t know who I am?” 

The woman shrugs half-heartedly, her face doesn’t move. Loki’s not quite sure it can.

“I am the Grandmaster,” he says, sitting beside Loki on the bed, with a flourish of his arms. “Who might you be, my beautiful pet?” 

Loki sits up, eyes narrow as his chin lifts up. “I am Loki Odinson, prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, and I am no one’s pet,” Loki says, glamouring a dagger in his hand. He pulls it on the Grandmaster’s throat, the sharp edge pressing against the man’s skin, threatening to break it. 

The woman pulls out a weapon and steps forward, until the Grandmaster holds up a hand. He smiles, pearly white teeth almost glittering. 

It sends Loki’s gut twisting with something warm. Ew. 

“I like this one,” the Grandmaster says. “Are you sure I can’t keep you?” 

“Where am I?” Loki asks. 

The Grandmaster gently pushes the dagger away from his throat, but doesn’t take it from Loki. Odd. “Sakaar, where all the universes’ lost things go— ”

“I’m not lost, though. I was pushed out of the Bifrost— ” 

“The Beef what?” the Grandmaster raises an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what that is, but the universe must have thought you were lost for you to end up in my care.” 

Loki glares at him. He’s a king at heart, he doesn’t need anyone to take care of him. “I am not in your care. I am the rightful-”

“Rightful king of Jotunhelm and prince of Assgard. Yes, you’ve mentioned this already,” the Grandmaster leans against the bed, his hand trapping Loki’s legs in the covers. “You’re quite beautiful, you know?” 

Beautiful? He’s not beautiful. He’s not… anything. Still, his stomach twists again, something despicably hopeful churning in his gut. 

“I wish to leave,” Loki says. 

The Grandmaster frowns. “You can’t leave, my pet.” 

“For the last time—” Loki sits up and snarls in the Grandmaster’s face, so close he can feel the man’s breathing, “—I am no one’s pet.” 

“Right, you’re not,” the Grandmaster says. “Not at all.” 

“Then why do you insist on calling me as such?” 

The Grandmaster brings a hand up to Loki’s cheek and strokes his thumb along the bone. “You just make it so easy.” He looks back to the woman. “Doesn’t he make it easy?” 

Loki pushes him away and clamors out the bed. “I wish to leave at once.” 

“Oh dear,” the Grandmaster says as he stands, folding his hands together. “You misunderstood. I’m not keeping you here, the universe is. No one leaves Sakaar. Not even myself.” 

“What?” Loki slowly sits back on the bed, not meeting the Grandmasters’ (enchanting) gaze. “But I’m needed in Asgard.” 

“Assgard will just have to wait, my sweet.” 

“Quit with the pet names,” Loki hisses. “You will address me as Loki and nothing else.” 

The Grandmaster smirks. “I thought you were a king?” 

“I am, but Loki will do,” Loki says quietly. He’s not sure why he’s passing by on the chance to be addressed as his true titles, not when he’s got a clean slate here on Sakaar. 

Wait… He’s got a clean slate here. And the Grandmaster, whoever he may be, seems to have taken a liking to him. If he plays his cards right, he can manipulate his way to the top and gain unspeakable power here on Sakaar. Then he can stop Hela with his army of Sakaarians, taking back Asgard and then maybe even Jotunheim. He’ll be unstoppable. He’ll be the greatest ruler of the nine realms they have ever seen. He’ll bring peace and riches and culture to all of his empire. Loki will live like the king he truly is. 

“Then Loki it is.” The Grandmaster holds out his hand. “My dear Loki, will you join me for breakfast?” 

Loki stares at the hand and smiles, tucking his dagger away. He takes it. “I’d love to.” 

~*~*~*~*~

_But what is this place? The answer is Sakaar._

~*~*~*~*~

Breakfast on Sakaar was interesting to say the least. It’s mostly fruits, interesting combinations of vegetation and meats that Loki’s never tasted before, but delights his palate. He’s sitting at the far end of the table, facing the Grandmaster as he eats his own delectable treats. Loki watches him, fingernails tapping along the table in a rhythm among the wood. 

_Babadum, babadum, babadum._

“Why did you ask me to eat with you?” Loki asks. 

The Grandmaster juts out his chin, dribbling with juices that splatter along his robes. A servant, a hunched back man with bright blue hair and pink skin, dabs at the Grandmaster’s chin, where a blue line travels from his lip to his neck. “I brought you with me because I want to get to know you,” the Grandmaster says. 

“Get to know me?” 

_Babadum, babadum, babadum._

“Is that not a phrase you’re familiar with?” He glances back at the stone-faced woman. “How do I say that in Assgardian?” 

Loki sits up. “I know what you said. I’m just,” Loki stumbles on what to say next. He’s not sure what to say. “I’m just a bit tired,” he says. “I don’t know what happened.” 

“Well, neither do we. We just found you laying in a trash pile—”

“In a trash pile?” Loki gasps. “What the f—”

“Don’t fret, my dear, we sanitized you prior to laying you in my personal guest room. You have nothing to worry about.” The Grandmaster takes a nasty bite out of a peach-like fruit and tosses it aside. “I don’t want that anymore. Send it to the champions.” 

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Champions?”

The Grandmaster claps his hands. “Oh goody! I can finally tell you about my prized champions.” He waves a hand toward the drapes along the wall. 

His servants open the drapes to reveal a city beneath them. The Grandmaster gets up, motioning to Loki to follow, and glides along the floor. “Welcome to Sakaar,” the Grandmaster says. 

Sakaar wasn’t beautiful, not in Loki’s eyes at least. It’s trashy, literally. There’s ramshackle homes stacked upon one another, with random decorations splattered about them. The streets are filled with people, dressed in rags and modge podge of clothes, as they sulk from place to place. 

Loki already hates it. He wants his golden palace back. 

The Grandmaster points to an arena in the center of the town. “My champions are fighters. They compete every night to be the best of Sakaar. And the more they win, the better I like them,” the Grandmaster says, whispering the last line to Loki. 

His breath tickles Loki’s ear and makes his heart flutter. 

“And what do they fight for?” 

“To live.” 

~*~*~*~*~

_Surrounded by cosmic gateways, Sakaar lives on the edge of the known and unknown._

~*~*~*~*~

Loki walks with the Grandmaster’s entourage, surrounded by beautiful people from all over the universe and galaxies. They enchant him, almost as much as the Grandmaster himself does, and Loki can’t help but feel at ease among them. 

His treatment here has been a dream. It’s everything he wanted back on Asgard but given to him without having to force anyone to kneel and bow down to him, rather given because he deserves it. It’s been a week and he’s already been given a luxurious suite, a Sakaarian wardrobe, and a place at the Grandmaster’s table, something that the rest of the entourage seems to think is quite magnificent. 

He’s not buying it. Whatever the Grandmaster is trying to do, Loki doesn’t want it. There aren’t enough fancy robes and stylish shoes to get Loki to drop his guard. He’s still not sure what the Grandmaster’s goal is, but either way, Loki’s prepared for whatever it is. 

“Scrapper 1-4-2 is coming to visit,” the Grandmaster says, rubbing his hands together. “She brings such wonderful gifts to me. She brought me my beloved Champion, you know.” He turns to Loki. “You’ll have to meet my Champion. He’s on rest right now. I just like him so much. Don’t I like him, Topaz?” 

Topaz, the stone-faced woman, nods. “You do.” 

The Grandmaster grins and takes Loki by the arm. “I decided to let him rest when you arrived. I want him at his best when you see him fight for the first time. We have a wonderful match to go to tonight, though. I planned it specifically with you in mind, Loki.” 

“How is that?” Loki asks, letting the Grandmaster guide him down the hall. 

“They are magicians like yourself—”

“How do you know I conjure magic?” Loki asks. 

The Grandmaster grins. “Oh, I’ve seen your tricks, prince Loki. I’ve seen you do your little glamour thing where you make things appear. You’ve got quite the trick, there.” 

Loki tries not to blush, tries to keep the pinkness out of his cheeks and off the tips of his ears. He’s under some sort of spell, that has to be it, because he’s never felt these physical urges before. Blushing; that’s for the weak. He keeps his face clear of any emotion, it’s safer that way. 

“And you think I’d be impressed by some simpletons doing magic?” 

“I thought you might have an affinity for them, yes,” the Grandmaster says. “If anything, we can laugh at their demise together.” 

Loki glamours himself on the opposite side of the Grandmaster as his cheek twitches with the effort of hiding a smile. A distraction of sorts. “I can assure you that none compare to myself,” his two versions say together. He snaps his fingers and returns to one, taking the Grandmaster’s arm again. 

The Grandmaster nods. “I would say so.” 

~*~*~*~*~

_It is the collection point for all lost and unloved things. Like you._

~*~*~*~*~

Loki walks into the Grandmaster’s box of the Champion Colosseum. The colosseum itself is huge, far more massive than anything on Asgard or even on Midgard, it’s more suited for Jotunheim. But the Grandmaster’s private viewing box was just as big in proportion to everything else, with a long couch in the center for just himself to lounge upon. Everyone is already inside, with the entourage (some he recognizes and others he doesn’t) standing around drinking and chatting as they wait for the event to start. Some smile at him when he enters, others just ignore him. 

The Grandmaster himself is sitting on his couch, snacking on some berries and drinking what looks like an oversized martini. He glances over his shoulder as doors slide shut, a grin spilling onto his lips. “Loki, dear, join me!” 

The room quiets as Loki walks through and takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch. He smirks as he leans back, settling into the soft cushions. 

“Are you ready for this?” the Grandmaster asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re in for quite a show.” 

“I suppose so,” Loki says with a sigh. 

The Grandmaster’s brow furrows as he turns to his stadium. He motions with his hand as he stands. Suddenly, a thirty-foot hologram appears of the Grandmaster in the center of the colosseum, looking down on his subjects. “Hello, hello! Wow, what a crowd tonight,” he says, voice echoing through the speakers as the crowd cheers. “We have quite the spectacle lined up! Quite the show,” he says, hands spreading out and away from him. “I’m your host and this is what we’ve come for, the big ticket to see who will face the Champion! So many have died for this moment, it’s time to rejoice!” 

Loki glances around at the rest of the room. He doesn’t belong here. He’s not like the rest of these people. He wants to kick back and watch plays for the rest of eternity, not contenders slaughtering each other. 

The hologram disappears and the Grandmaster takes his seat with a flourish of his arms. He glances at Loki, a small smile playing on his lips, and leans back into his seat. “You’re in for quite a show, my dear Loki.” 

“We shall see.” 

In the end, he was quite impressed with the match the Grandmaster put together for him, but he’ll never let on. That’d be showing emotions, and those who show emotions wind up getting hurt. 

~*~*~*~*~

_But here on Sakaar, you are significant._

~*~*~*~*~

There’s a knock on Loki’s chambers. It’s late, far too late for anyone to be awake at such an unreasonable hour. Loki sits up from his bed, he hadn't been sleeping himself, found his brain too troubling, and waits for a sign of life on the other side of the door. It could just be his terrible brain playing tricks on him, reminding him that no one cares… 

It comes in the form of another knock followed by a hushed whisper of “Loki?”

Loki considers getting up from the bed, but instead astral projects himself to open the door. “Yes?” it asks, keeping the door cracked. 

In the mirror on the wall, Loki can just make out the Grandmaster’s white hair and olive skin. God, he’s beautiful in this light— 

No. He’s not. He’s not beautiful at all. No one is on this god forsaken planet. He’ll take it over and go home where he belongs, back to Asgard. God, he can’t believe he actually misses Asgard, after all the treatment he’s gotten. He had to disguise himself as Odin to feel appreciated, to feel loved, yet he still wants to go back. 

“Topaz didn’t think you’d be up, but I thought it was worth a try and look at this, I was right. See, he’s up! I told you he would be. I had a feeling you weren’t feeling the best and I just want to see if there’s anything I can do. No maids or servants, just me,” the Grandmaster says, talking between Loki and someone else, presumably Topaz. 

Astral projection Loki crosses his arms. “And what makes you believe that I wasn’t asleep after all?” 

Loki tugs his robes tighter and holds himself. 

“Your hair is quite too neat to have been asleep, dear Loki.” 

Well… he’s got a point. 

“May I come in? I’ll just be a minute,” he asks. He turns to Topaz, “I’ll just be a minute, you can go. I know my way back through my own palace.” 

Loki can just barely make out her grunt in response as she leaves. 

“I never said you could,” astral projection Loki says. “Maybe I’m not up for company at the moment.”

The Grandmaster falters. “Even mine?” 

“Just because you are the Grandmaster of Sakaar, that does not make you exempt from being called company,” astral projection says. 

Loki waves his hand and the astral projection disappears. “Come in, close the door behind you,” he says, voice thick from silence. 

The Grandmaster peeks in, the blue line on his chin sparkling just a little more in the dim light of Loki’s bedroom. It’s charming. “Ah, I see you’re playing tricks on me, dear Loki.” 

“A trick is meant to undermine and surprise, I was doing neither,” Loki says. He doesn’t move, rather holds his legs to his chest. 

The Grandmaster steps inside and closes the door with a click.

Loki watches as he wrings his hands, walking closer. “What brings you here?” 

“Believe it or not, I, too, couldn’t sleep. Tried everything; slept with my friends, slept with the servants, drank enough liquor to put down a grelmu, slept with more people—I slept with a lot of people, but it just didn’t feel right.” He looks down at his feet. “Nothing feels right nowadays.” 

“And that brought you to my chambers?” 

The Grandmaster nods. “You do something to me, dear Loki. Something I haven’t experienced for a long time in my life. I think you’re the most magnificent person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” 

Loki raises an eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.” 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Why is that?” the Grandmaster moves to sit in front of Loki. 

Loki looks down at his knees, covered in the silk pajamas the Grandmaster gifted him. “Because it’s me,” he says softly before he can stop himself. 

He can’t let on that he is weak. He can’t tell the Grandmaster just how weak he truly is… 

“I am nothing but a weak, conniving degenerate that will never belong,” Loki whispers. 

Why is he saying these things? Why can’t he stop himself? Why does it feel so good to finally say these things aloud?

The Grandmaster takes Loki by the hand. “My dear Loki, you are not weak. You are the strongest, bravest prince I have ever laid eyes on,” he says. He squeezes Loki’s hand and brings it up to his lips, brushing his lips against Loki’s knuckles. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days showing you how wrong you really are.” 

Loki takes his hand back and looks away. His heart aches. “Can you leave? I wish to be alone.” 

“Of course.” The Grandmaster stands and walks to the door. “I’ll show you, Loki. I will. I’ll show you how much you truly mean to me.” 

~*~*~*~*~

_You are valuable. Here, you are loved._

~*~*~*~*~

Loki leans against the couch and sighs. “You should have seen my palace back on Asgard,” he tells the rest of the Grandmaster’s entourage of beautiful people. “It was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

They’re all seated off to the side as the Grandmaster works, lounging with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. It’s quite fantastic. There’s music playing 

“It’s completely gold, the best gold you’ve ever seen,” Loki continues. 

Loki turns back to his conversation. “They loved me on Asgard,” he says. 

“Then how did you wind up on Sakaar?” a lady asks, she’s new and Loki hasn’t bothered to learn her name yet. 

“My sister pushed me out into space,” he says with a shrug. 

Loki sees the Grandmaster enter from the corner of his eye, where he brings a chair over to his keyboard. Probably a new contender or something Scrapper 142 or 189 dropped off. 

“My name is Grandmaster. I preside over a little harlequinade called the Contest of Champions. People come from far and wide to unwillingly participate in it. And you, my friend, might just be part of the new cast. What do you say to that?” 

Loki can’t make out what the guy in the chair says. All he hears is the Grandmaster say something about “Assgard” before he starts to play with the band. 

“And of course there was a wormhole in space and time beneath me. At that moment, I let go,” Loki says. Everyone laughs as he revels in the near warmth of the camaraderie the entourage has. Even though he doesn’t care about a single one of them. 

“Loki! Loki! Over here,” someone shouts. 

Loki looks up at the man in the chair and—

Shit. It’s Thor.

He stands, back straight and grip tight on his glass. Loki fakes a laugh as he walks away from the group and toward Thor. “Excuse me one second,” he says. 

“Loki!” 

Loki shushes him. “What? You’re alive?” he whispers. 

“Yes, of course, I’m alive,” Thor says in a whisper. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m stuck in this stupid chair. Where’s your chair?”

Loki shakes his head. “I didn’t get a chair.” 

“Well get me out of this one.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Get me out,” Thor says again. 

Loki says, “I can’t.” 

“What?” Thor’s brow is furrowed as he stares at Loki in bewilderment. 

“I’ve made friends with this man. He’s called the Grandmaster.”

“He’s crazy,” Thor says. 

“I’ve gained his favor. The Bifrost brought me out here weeks ago,” Loki says. 

“Weeks ago?” Thor squints at him. “I just got here?” 

“What are you whispering about?” The Grandmaster asks, suddenly beside the two. They both jump, Loki trying to keep his composure as Thor lets out a strangled yell. “Time works real different around these parts. On any other world, I’d be like, millions of years old. But here on Sakaar…” He stares at Loki, grimacing a little. 

Loki tries to tamper down his thundering heart. He’s not sure if it’s the scare or just the Grandmaster in general but either way he hates it. 

“In any case, you know this uh, this uh, you call yourself Lord of Thunder?” the Grandmaster asks, motioning to Thor. 

“God of Thunder,” Thor says. “Tell him.” Thor motions to the Grandmaster with his eyes. 

Loki laughs. “I’ve never met this man in my life.” 

“He’s my brother!” Thor says. 

“Adopted,” Loki says. 

“Is he any kind of a fighter?” the Grandmaster asks. 

Thor laughs. “You take this thing out of my neck and I’ll show you.” 

The Grandmaster grins. “Aw listen to that, he’s threatening me! Hey, Sparkles, here’s the deal, you want to get back to Assplace, Assburg— ”

“Asgard!” 

“Any contender who defeats my Champion, their freedom they shall win.” 

“Fine, then point me in the direction of whoever’s ass I have to kick,” Thor snarls.

“That’s what I call a contender! The direction would be this way, Lord.” The Grandmaster picks up the wand and Thor’s chair moves in the direction he waves it at. 

Thor screams. “Loki!” 

Loki grimaces as he watches the Grandmaster and Topaz direct Thor out of the lounge.

Hurray.

~*~*~*~*~

_And no one loves you more than the Grandmaster._

~*~*~*~*~

“Why did you lie?” the Grandmaster asks at dinner that night. 

“Lie?” Loki glances up from his plate. 

The Grandmaster nods. “At first, when the Lord of Thunder said you were his brother.”

Loki’s shoulders grow tense. “Ah, yes.” He takes a bite of his food and chews thoughtfully. “You see, my brother and I have a long history together. It hasn’t always been brotherly on my part—” 

“Ah, no need to explain,” the Grandmaster says. “My brother and I haven’t spoken in years, I understand.” 

“You have a brother?” Loki asks, taking another bite. 

“Taneleer,” the Grandmaster says as he looks down at his plate. “I haven’t told anyone about him in years.” 

Loki’s chest feels warm and his stomach light. “Yet you told me?” 

“There’s something special about you.” He stands up and walks around the long table and takes a seat beside Loki. The Grandmaster takes Loki’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “You do something to me. I think I might be falling for you, my dear Loki.” 

What?

Did he just—

“Falling?” Loki repeats, setting down his fork and turning to the man. “As in—” 

“Love.” 

“With me?” 

“Who else?” 

Loki shrugs, smiling down at his lap. “It’s just,” he tries, biting at his lip. “I’m not the being in love type.” 

“And neither am I, yet here we are.” The Grandmaster kisses his palm again, then stands. He steps behind Loki and places his hands on his shoulders. “I care deeply about you, Loki. Really, I do. It’s quite shocking, if you ask Topaz, but I’ve fallen for you and I seem to still be falling,” the Grandmaster says. He dips down and kisses Loki’s cheek, soft and gentle like. 

Loki’s chest aches with need. He wants the Grandmaster to kiss him again and again and again… He touches his cheek, the skin still tingling where the Grandmaster’s lips were. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he gave into his feelings? 

“Your brother is going to fight for his life tonight,” the Grandmaster says, “and you’ll finally see my Champion.” 

“Is that so?” Loki says, clearing his throat. 

The Grandmaster takes his seat and Topaz pushes him into the table. Guess she’d been standing there the whole time, she has a way of being silently observant. She smirks at Loki and walks away to stand near the door. 

“And if he wins, what will you do? Will you stay with me or return with him?”

Loki pauses. “I have a choice?” 

“Well, of course you have a choice. You’re not stuck here forever, unlike the rest of us. If your brother manages to win, or at any time for that matter, you can return to Assgard without any hassle from me,” the Grandmaster says with a sigh. 

Loki watches him for a long minute. “You don’t want me to leave, do you?” 

“No, I want you to stay with me for the rest of our days,” he says. “You can stay with me and I’ll treat you like the king you deserve. We’ll hire a Topaz for you, isn’t that right Topaz? And you’ll have your own chambers, even though I’d like for you to stay in mine, and your own team of servants to wait on you hand and foot. Just like you deserve,” the Grandmaster rambles. He sighs and sets down his fork. “And if you choose to leave, I’ll never say a word about it. You can take one of my ships and be on your way.” 

“You really mean that, don’t you?” 

“I do, with every fiber in my ancient body.” 

“I’m not sure what I’ll do.” 

“There’s no need to decide now.” 

Loki nods and returns to his meal. “Thank you… for everything.” 

~*~*~*~*~

_He is the original._

~*~*~*~*~

Loki excuses himself from the Grandmaster’s lounge and slips into a closet just outside once the coast is clear, where he closes his eyes and sighs. He’s trying to find Thor, to visualize where he might be. Loki’s never seen where the gladiators stay at when they aren’t battling, nor does he have any desire to, but he needs to find Thor. He pictures him in his head. 

Thor’s kneeling on the ground, facing the graffitied wall when Loki’s astral projection enters the gladiators chambers. “Odin, I bid you take your place in the halls of Valhalla,” Thor prays, voice a mumble, “where the brave shall live forever. Nor shall we mourn but rejoice—”

“—for those that have died the glorious death,” they say together. 

Thor glances over his shoulder before he moves to lay against the wall. 

Loki presses his lips together. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Being lied to. Being told you’re one thing and learning it’s all a fiction.” 

Thor doesn’t look impressed. He picks up a rock and throws it through Loki’s stomach.

He chuckles, embarrassed. “You didn’t think I’d really come and see you, did you? This place is disgusting,” he tries. It sounds harsh the second it leaves his tongue, but it’s too late to recant. He doesn’t want Thor thinking he’s not allowed down here, that the Grandmaster would never let him travel to such a degrading place—brother or not. 

Thor throws another rock. Then picks up another, tossing it in the air and catching it while Loki talks. 

“Does this mean you don’t want my help? Look, I couldn’t jeopardize my position with the Grandmaster. It took me time to win his trust.” It didn’t. “He’s a lunatic—” He’s not. “—but he can be amenable. What I’m telling you is,” Thor tosses the rock at him, “you could join me at the Grandmaster’s side.” Just not in the way Loki’s hoping to be by the end of all this…

Wait. 

No, that’s right. 

Loki’s falling for the Grandmaster and there’s nothing to be ashamed of or worried about, other than the fact that Loki is Loki, a degenerate who no one can love or care for because he always fucks it up. Then again, the Grandmaster _is_ an empirical dictator of an entire planet that sacrifices his people on a whim, sometimes his own ‘family,’ and doesn’t care what anyone thinks of his status and company since he makes the rules on Sakaar. 

Maybe Loki should let himself fall… 

“Perhaps, in time, an accident befalls the Grandmaster, and then…” He hates this idea, but he motions to Thor anyway, mouths “and me” as he points to himself, then raises two thumbs up. Loki couldn’t hurt the Grandmaster at this point, not with how much his heart ached at the idea of an accident befalling the man. 

Thor throws another rock. It goes through Loki’s astral face. 

“You’re not seriously thinking of going back, are you?” Loki’s had plenty of time to realize that Asgard has fallen by now at the hands of their sister. Maybe Thor can save it, but that’s a big if right now. “Our sister destroyed your hammer like a piece of glass. She’s stronger than both of us. She’s stronger than you. You don’t stand a chance. Do you understand what I’m saying here?” 

Thor just stares. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll just have to go it alone, like I’ve always done.” 

Thor smiles at that, a tight fake smile that pricks at Loki’s skin in a way only Thor can do. Brothers, pshk. 

“Would you say something?” 

Nothing. 

“Say something!” 

Thor’s smile grows tighter. “What would you like me to say? You faked your own death, you stole the throne, stripped Odin of his power, stranded him on Earth to die, releasing the Goddess of Death. Have I said enough or would you like me to go back further than the past two days?” 

“You know, I haven’t seen this beloved champion he talks of, but I’ve heard he is astonishingly savage. I’ve placed a large wager against you tomorrow. Don’t let me down.” 

Thor picks up a bottle as Loki pulls his astral projection back. He’s gone before the bottle hits the wall. 

~*~*~*~*~

_The first lost, and the first found._

~*~*~*~*~

Loki and Scrapper 142 walk into the throne room, with six guards behind them. 

“I’m upset,” the Grandmaster cries from his place on a hoverboard. “I’m very upset. You know what I like about being upset? The blame. Right now, that’s the mindset that I’m in.” Topaz walks up beside him with his sceptre. “And you know who I’m blaming?”

“Grandmaster, I can—” Loki tries. 

“Hey! Hey! Don’t interrupt me!”

“Here you go,” Topaz says as she hands him the sceptre. 

The Grandmaster looks to her. “Why are you handing me the melt stick? He was interrupting. That’s not a capital violation.” He pauses, looking between the two. “My precious champion has come up missing and it’s all because of that Lord of Thunder. It’s all because of him.” 

He adjusts his robes, yanking at them. “Your brother,” he says as he motions to Loki. “Whatever the story is. Adopted, or complicated, or you know. I’m sure there’s a big history.” 

“And your contender,” he says, pointing at Scrapper 142. 

Loki steps forward. “My dear friend, if you were to give me twelve hours, I could bring them both back to you. Alive.” 

“I could do it in two,” 142 says. 

“I could do it in one,” Loki counters. 

“Let’s stop there,” the Grandmaster says. “You know what? I woke up this morning thinking about a public execution. But for now, I’ll settle for this sweet little ‘Who’s gonna get him first?’ So, you’re, uh, well you’re on the clock.” He waves them away. 

~*~*~*~*~

_The creator of Sakaar and the father of the Contest of Champions._

~*~*~*~*~

It’s been three days since Loki left Sakaar. He wishes he could have stopped to say goodbye to the Grandmaster, but Asgard needed saving and for once Loki was going to be a hero and not just the reason everything happened (even though he technically _is_ the reason once again). 

He misses the Grandmaster.

Loki looks out to the depths of space. It’s so lonely in this ship. No one wants to be seen with Loki, prince or not, after everything he’s done. 

He wants to go back to Sakaar. If only he knew how he knew the sure way to get there. 

It’s only been six days since he met the Grandmaster, but weeks since he’s known the man in Sakaarian time. Time is such a fickle thing, it amazes Loki with the way it warps in and out of the space-time continuum, making his time with the Grandmaster longer than it really was. It was such a lovely time.

He glances at Thor, sitting on his throne on the other side of the main hull. If he went back to Sakaar, he’d never see Thor again, but maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. They had a good run, and now they’re friends again sure, but how long would that really last? Loki always manages to fuck up their relationship, so is it really a bad idea if he left when things were okay? 

He’s not sure where they’re heading or what’s going on, but Loki knows he may not be welcome in the new Asgard. Maybe it’s time to settle down where he truly belongs… 

~*~*~*~*~

_Where once you were nothing…_

~*~*~*~*~

“Here me and rejoice, you have had the privilege of being saved by the great titan,” Ebony Maw says as he walks through the bodies of Asgardians. 

Loki’s hands shake as he cowers beneath the hull, an astral projection stands before Thanos and his crew. He’s surrounded by the Black Order. If he’s going to make it out alive after what happened last time he worked with Thanos, he’ll need all the magic he can get. 

“You may think this is sudden,” Ebony Maw continues, “no, it is salvation. Universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice. Smile. For even in death, you have become Children of Thanos.” He passes Loki, his ugly body nearly grazing Loki’s. How dare he. Loki watches him carefully, from both the astral projection’s view and the hull of the ship.

The smoke burns his eyes as tears well up. It’s hard to see his people slain, lying among their friends and families with their eyes lifelessly staring out into space. At least the beauty of space was the last thing they saw, instead of Thanos’ nasty grin or Ebony Maw’s slimy smile. 

“I know what it’s like to lose,” Thanos says. He walks toward Loki. “To feel so desperately that you’re right… yet to fail, nonetheless.” He picks up Thor like he’s a ragdoll, his brother groaning with the movement. “It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. But I ask you, to what end? Dread it, run from it, destiny arrives all the same. And now, it’s here. Or should I say, I am.” 

Thanos balls up his fist in the Infinity Gauntlet, the power stone’s force pulsing through the air. He holds Thor’s head in the other hand, forcing him to kneel at his feet. 

“You talk too much,” Thor forces out, panting the words with a groan. 

“The Tesseract, or your brother’s head.” 

Loki fidgets under the hull, but the projection stays as cool as can be. He takes out the Tesseract, his beloved cube of power that he’s fought for all this time, that he finally has in his belongings. 

What’s more important: his brother and the chance to see the Grandmaster or his lifelong love of the Tesseract? 

“I assume you have a preference?” Thanos says. 

“Oh, I do,” Loki says. Thor’s choking, a horrible sound that will haunt Loki forever. “Kill away,” he says. 

Thanos presses the power stone to Thor’s head. Thor screams as Loki’s projection watches. The real Loki covers his ears, tears splashing onto his lap. He can’t believe he’s doing this, torturing his brother for a stone… 

“All right, stop!” the projection hollers. He closes his eyes as Thor gasps for breath. Loki decides at that moment he’s better off dead than Thor is. 

“We don’t have the Tesseract,” Thor says, voice muddled with blood. “It was destroyed on Asgard.” 

The projection looks between Thor and Thanos before holding up a hand. Loki sends the Tesseract to the projection. 

Thor pants, glaring up at Loki’s projection. “You really are the worst, brother.” 

“I assure you, brother, the sun will shine on us again,” Loki says as he steps forward with the Tesseract. 

Thanos laughs at them. “Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian.” 

Loki pulls the Tesseract back. “Well, for one thing, I’m not Asgardian. And for another, we have a hulk.” 

Hulk roars as he tackles Thanos to the ground. Loki jumps and grabs Thor, covering him as he drops the Tesseract to the ground. 

“You stole the Tesseract?” Thor whispers. 

Loki winces. “I couldn’t stop myself.” 

“We could have been killed,” Thor hisses. “All because of you and that stupid stone.” Thor braces himself and grabs a pipe. “Now I have to go fight Thanos again because you thought it would be nice to take something you know you shouldn’t have, like a child.” 

He darts toward Thanos and wacks the pipe against him, only to be picked up and thrown across the room. Ebony Maw restrains him with spare parts, using magic to wrap the metal around Thor. 

The next thing Loki knows is the BiFrost taking Hulk/Bruce away. Loki hears the crunch of Thanos’ weapon slicing through Heimdall. He gags, stomach turning as he covers his mouth and cowers in the hull of the ship. 

“You’re going to die for that!” Thor cries, before Ebony Maw shushes him with a muzzle. 

Ebony Maw presents the Tesseract before Thanos, bowing down on one knee. “My humble personage bows before your grandeur. No other being has ever had the might, nay, the nobility, to wield not one, but two Infinity Stones.” 

Thanos plucks it out of his hands. 

“The universe lies within your grasp,” Ebony Maw says. 

Thanos crushes the Tesseract in his fist, causing a sharp pain to pierce through Loki’s chest as he watches the shards fall from Thanos’ purple hand. He reveals a glowing blue stone, the same hue as the Tesseract. Thanos blows away the dust and drops the shards before he places the stone gently in the Infinity Gauntlet with a groan. “There are two more stones on Earth. Find them, my children and bring them to me on Titan.” 

“Father, we will not fail you,” the Black Order says as they bow. 

That’s when Loki takes his chance. He’s going to do something stupid and hope he can sneak away without any signs of struggle. 

The astral projection steps out from behind some rubble and says, “If I might interject. If you’re going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have a bit of experience in that arena.” 

“If you consider failure experience,” Thanos says. 

“I consider experience experience,” the projection says. “Almighty Thanos, I, Loki, prince of Asgard… Odinson,” he says as he takes one more look at Thor. The real him is crying, a silent shaking of his shoulders as he lets his real emotions release from his body in a relieving wave. This might be the last time he sees his brother and it’s through a projection, not his real eyes. He should be ashamed of himself. A coward. A degenerate. He continues, “the rightful king of Jotunheim, god of mischief, do hereby pledge to you—” he produces a dagger in his hand— “my undying fidelity.” He bows his head, takes a deep breath, and lunges. 

Thanos stops the dagger at his throat before Loki can puncture the skin with the gauntlet. “Undying?” He grabs Loki’s wrist. “You should choose your words more carefully.” Thanos shakes the dagger from Loki’s hand and grabs his throat with the gauntlet. 

He chokes Loki’s astral projection. 

Loki uses every ounce of magic he can to make it seem real, to make Thanos believe he’s choking the real Loki and not just a figure of his imagination. 

“You,” the projection says, "will never be… a god.” 

Thanos snaps the astral projection’s neck. 

Thor struggles in his confines, “No!”

Thanos drops the projection before Thor and says, “No resurrections this time.” Well. Maybe just one more. Thanos destroys the ship with the power stone, leaving through a portal as Thor’s dropped from the metal. 

He crawls over to the projection and whispers, “Loki…” 

It’s the last thing he hears before the hull is torn and Loki’s body goes unconscious as he drifts into space. 

Please for the love of all that is good, let him land on Sakaar once more. 

~*~*~*~*~

_Now you are something._

~*~*~*~*~

He opens his eyes to a familiar face. 

“You’re back,” the Grandmaster says with a grin, leaning over him. He glances back to Topaz. “I told you he’d be back.” 

Loki sits up, takes the Grandmaster’s face in his cold hands, and brings their lips together in a soft kiss. “For good.” 

“Yeah?” the Grandmaster whispers against Loki’s lips. 

“I can’t leave you again,” Loki says, rubbing his thumbs against the Grandmaster’s sharp cheekbones. “Not after everything.” 

“I’ve missed you, my dear Loki.” The Grandmaster takes Loki’s hand off his face and holds it close.

Loki takes a moment to look around. They’re in a dark room, illuminated by neon lights. 

The Grandmaster hums. “Ah, yes, you’ve missed quite a bit, but don’t worry. Their revolution will end soon and we’ll be back on top.” 

“With me by your side, that’s a guarantee.” 

~*~*~*~*~

 _And together, they lived happily ever after._

~*~*~*~*~


End file.
